Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow

In her post titled ‘Time out of time’, HecateDemeter opens with this line, ‘…There are only three days now – yesterday, today, and tomorrow…’ and there my attention stayed as I thunked thoughts of my own.

Yesterday – hmm … well, gone for good, I’d say. We, (humans) for the most part, weren’t listening anyway, so hence this bigger, much bigger, wake-up call.

Today – a waiting game, that we get through the best we can at any given moment.

Tomorrow – a three-fer:
T
omorrow, as in the day after today, isn’t going to be all that different from today.
The tomorrow after that will be a bit different in that ‘lockdown measures’ will start to ease, and those desperate to ‘return’ to ‘normal’ will feel their stress levels rise as the truth of what that ‘normal’ really means sinks in.
The final tomorrow – the one that is somewhere waaaay over there and months away, no-one knows anything about. ‘Talking heads’ will (and already are) positing what ‘things’ will be like then, as though nations bankrupting themselves, the failure of globalisation, and wealth continuing to ‘trickle’ upwards, will be ‘business as usual’.

I certainly don’t know … I have a bit of a list of things that I hope for, another list a bit longer, sadly, of things that I fear will happen, (which I put no energy into, ‘cos that path leads to the Dark Side) … but no, I don’t know … all there is in this moment in time, is yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

-oOo-

In the meantime, Bob the Bluebird of Bitterness has hunted and gathered these treats for you …

Margaritaville

Margaritaville

Simon’s Cat – wait for the end-credit scene

Poor Simon … he can’t catch a break …

Cast A Giant Shadow

Some shadows, like pandemics, cover the world. Others, like this one, are bigger. (with thanks to Bob, the Bluebird of Bitterness, who is more about Silliness and Strangeness)

The Numbers Game

I’ve settled into a place, adjacent to where my Spirit finds equilibrium. Hardly any news-chasing, once a day really. Daily needs are met, and I’m feeling the stirrings of creativity. They don’t last, not yet, but I feel the day coming when they will.

I have one little quirk going on though. Each evening at around 11pm I open the Johns Hopkins Corona virus/Covid-19 site and log the confirmed cases numbers and compare them to the previous evening’s tally. Just the confirmed cases. I know if I did the same thing with the deaths, my still fragile and vulnerable ability to see my way clearly through this would not survive the immersion.

What solace I find in this, I’m not sure of. Perhaps it connects me to the stark reality of what our entire species on this planet is going through, especially because of how physically isolated I am here on our little island in the middle of a lake.

Oh, and one other quirk. I catch myself wrapping the fingers of my left hand around my thumb, most of the time without realising it. Not quite a fist, more of a protective gesture, because there are times when all I want to do is curl up in a ball and stay there.

Why am I telling you these things? I want you to know that no amount of peppy/supportive/uplifting videos, or tweets or facebook posts or ‘lifestyle’ articles is going to keep the grief and fear every one of us is feeling, (to greater and lesser amounts at any given time, it ebbs and flows) at bay for ever.

There IS a monster stalking us, and to deny our minds and bodies the ability to express those feelings is to give the monster another way to threaten us.

I’m not saying go dig potholes in your front yard, (well, maybe I am, a little bit, so long as you don’t have any close neighbours) but allow your body, your mind, your spirit, to tell you what it needs from you, your conscious mind.

Embrace the quirk … go crochet yourself some toilet paper.

Re-usable as well!

Re-usable as well!

 

Also … because I’m also feeling hopeful and sentimental…

Guns N’ Rosaries

Just heard on CBC news that the US government considers churches and gun shops to be ‘essential services’ …

… words … fail …

And the Typhoid Mary Award for What-The-Fuckery in 2020 goes to …

… Naomi Davis… and Clea Shearer…, a couple of plucky gals who aren’t going to let a little thing like a GLOBAL PANDEMIC stop them from doing something BREATHTAKINGLY FUCKING STUPID, (yes, I’m SWEARING and SHOUTING) like getting into their big rigs and heading out on the open road in search of … well, in search of more communities to infect.

Clea, accompanied by hubs, his mum, and their two kids are going from California to Nashville.

Naomi accompanied by hubs and five children, all shining bright with that true frontier spirit, are already on their way from New York to somewhere west.

Here’s the article that inspired me to make this award, and after reading, I’m sure you’ll all agree they are truly worthy recipients of this particular award. (there are, of course, many other types of ‘what-the-fuckery’ awards and recipients to be had during this time)

The article has live links and screen shots of their social media posts in case you think I’ve finally been taken over by the Twilight Zone.

Apart from the incredibly valid concerns mentioned in the article, there are a few more than haven’t been considered.

Emptying out the grey and black-water tanks. (that’s waste water, from the sink and shower – grey, and toilet – black) The corona virus has been demonstrably proven to exist in feces, (poop) so I don’t care how big your tanks are, with that many people pooping and showering and washing dishes, you’re going to need to empty them with alarming regularity.

Believe me, no matter how clean the facilities are, no matter how careful you are, you are guaranteed at least one splash. Even if you aren’t carrying the virus in your innards, you have no idea who was emptying their tanks, and had their singular ‘splash’ before you, or what they were carrying in their innards.

The corona virus has been demonstrably proven to remain airborne for up to 3 hours. (because the virus itself if really, really, really tiny) It has been demonstrably proven to remain on surfaces for hours to days, depending on the surface.

(Dr John Campbell has all the proofs to back up the ‘demonstrably-s’ I’ve mentioned, scattered throughout the last few weeks of his videos, usually from various global CDC’s and medical journals, scientific papers, etc)

Plus, the nomad community, although gaining more and more acceptability is still seen by many to be the lifestyle of those ‘unfortunates’ who can’t or won’t get a mortgage and live in a ‘real’ house, and can’t or won’t get a ‘real’ job … so when this finally blows up in these idiots faces, and it will, the fallout won’t be just on them.

But they’re not considering the true impact of the consequences of their actions on others, are they?

Funnily enough, when you think about it, that’s how this whole mess started in the first place.

-oOo-

It’s not that there aren’t other people out there doing reprehensible things like this, it’s just that out of an abundance of common sense, Mrs Widds and I have cancelled our ‘Wunder-Lusters’ plans for this year, and these reprehensibly arrogant fuckwits really got up my nose.

‘Common sense’ because until an antibody test becomes readily available, neither of us will know (unless we actually get sick) if we’ve even be exposed to the virus. (we’re both in the ‘vulnerable’ category. Mrs Widds is a disgustingly healthy 70, and I’m 61 with a compromised immune system) On top of that a viable vaccine won’t be readily available, probably until the end of the year.

About ‘Typhoid Mary’

Noticing Strange Things …

… like WordPress still not letting me ‘like’ comments on other people’s blogs, or my own for that matter … my solution: I’m going to reply with ‘liked!’ instead. The really weird thing is that every now and then, if someone has already ‘liked’ a comment, mine will stick too … very strange.

… like not being able to watch or listen to the news anymore without bursting into tears. Not huge tears, usually, just the leaky throat-catching, heart-squeezing kind … reading it is fine, (‘fine’ being relative these days) my exception being Dr John Campbell’s daily video updates. He’s the voice of grown-up, clarity without the sugar-coating or sensationalistic sound-byte-chasing that exists in mainstream reporting, and he’s usually onto things days before them too. This is his YouTube channel.

… like losing time, as though the gap between one moment and the next expands and I come back to myself still looking out the window five minutes later.

… like people having an ‘oops’ moment and stepping back a bit when they come together and realise they’re inside the two-meter ‘exclusion zone’ – fun fact, which may not be a fun fact per se, but after a bit of observation and subtle inquiries, most people tend to judge that distance to be the height of the person in front of them.

Give it a try and see what happens. (BUT only with someone in your HOUSEHOLD) … Without thinking about it too much, stand facing each other at what you think is 2 meters, then measure what the distance really is and compare that to how tall you both are. Let me know how it goes.

Here’s a little mnemonic device that I learned when I was a wee lass in the 70’s and Australia was in the throes of converting from the old Imperial system of measurements, to Metric … ‘a meter measures three foot three. It’s longer than a yard, you see’. So, 2 meters is 6’6″ … ooh, here’s another one … ‘a liter of water’s a pint and three-quarters’ … Heavens to Murgatriod! The things I find tucked away in the dusty corners of my mind!